


Skip Beat!

by Kogeki



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: And Kingsman are their biggest rival, Charlie is Eggsy's ex, Charlie is a wanker but also an upcoming star, Eggsy and Rosy are trainees in Kingsman Ent, Golden Circle is Charlie's agency, Harry is the most popular actor at Kingsman, I Don't Even Know, Love me section, M/M, Skip Beat AU, actors!au, pink jumpsuits, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kogeki/pseuds/Kogeki
Summary: After a messy breakup with his boyfriend (if you can even call him that) posh wanker upcoming singer Charlie, Eggsy decides it's about bloody time he got to pursue his dreams of becoming an actor. And it just so happens that Charlie's Golden Circle's rival agency called Kingsman Entertainment is recruiting.Nobody bloody told him he's gonna have to wear bright pink jumpsuit and please a bunch of posh wankers to actually get a job.Oh, and Harry bloody Hart is a different in person than on screen, but not really.





	Skip Beat!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't fucking know what I'm doing. I don't even remember most of it or when I actually finished writting it. Meh. You just gonna have to bear with me. And probably (most likely) a fuckton of mistakes bc I'm lazy and don't really feel like reading it again
> 
> Oh, and go watch Skip Beat! It's probably better than this shite

Eggsy was officially sick of it.

Cleaning, cooking, working three jobs just to pay for the fucking rent. And what he got in return? A fucking kiss with too much tongue for a hello and a quick handjob once in a month. He had more intimate relationship with his right hand and Pornhub than with his boyfriend.

Three years they’d been together, met for an audition for the same role that none of them got in the end. Some drinks, a quickie in the backseat of Charlie’s posh car and that’s it, basically. Eggsy wanted to get out of the estates forever and, now that his mum and Daisy are safe from that asshole Dean and living with Michelle’s sister Polly, he got his chance, he seized the day, he moved in with Charlie.

The thing was Charlie’s got money, came from money, the only thing he hadn’t brought was the love of the crowd - though, when he started daddy’s money came in handy. He had an amazing voice, that one that could make you cry if he played his cards right and was bloody good actor, too.

Eggsy experienced it first hand.

Eggsy was with him, when it was just starting, when he worked on his first album and Eggsy was enchanted by that voice, the lyrics, the lies that spilled right out of Charlie’s mouth. Then the album was a hit and Charlie became… well, he always was a posh prick, but the fame got to him, like it gets to the people hungry for power. He promised Eggsy he’ll find him a job in the business and yes, sue him, that was the last thing that kept Eggsy from walking the fuck away then and there.

The fancy flat was great, Charlie flying to fuck knows what country, Eggsy had all of the luxuries to himself. But he didn’t need that. He didn’t need Charlie to throw money at him and fuck off. After that nasty fight they had, they split the rent and the bills. Each of them paying their fair share for the flat. Charlie - a rising star, and Eggsy - who had to work his ass off to earn at least what Charlie got in a day by just existing. There was a gap between them, always. And it gone downhill from there.

Eggsy was called to deliver four pizzas to Charlie’s studio Golden Circle. He had to squeeze through all the teenage girls that actually waited at 10 pm in the rain just to see Charlie. Eggsy couldn’t sympathize.

The security let him come in just as the opening door woke the girls up and they went mental, screaming their love for Charlie and throwing their bras and pants everywhere.

“Shit, what the fuck does he want again?” Eggsy heard Charlie sneer through the cracked door.

Eggsy delivered the pizzas, got the cash, but he wanted to see his boyfriend to ask him, when he’ll be getting home. 

Eggsy froze hearing the comment. He remembered leaving him a voicemail a few hours back, asking what he’d like for dinner. What he would like for dinner, Jesus fuck, like some maid waiting for his master’s arrival.

“Why don’t you just dump him, if he pisses you off so much? Honestly.” He heard a raspy voice, some bird sounding more bored than honestly curious.

Charlie snorted.

“Yeah, and who’d do my laundry for me, then?”

Eggsy couldn’t move. He’s been clenching his hands, his fingernails leaving marks on his skin if not breaking it. Honestly he couldn’t quite register the physical pain. He was more worried about the burning sensation in his chest area that made it harder for him to breathe. He felt like he was in some fucking cheap romance film.

“Hey, didn’t you say he wanted to be an actor?” The bird was getting into the conversation, more interested now.

“Oh yeah,” Charlie humed dismissively, then a pause, a breath being let out. Where they… smoking something? Fuck. “He can’t act for shite, to be honest.”

Eggsy decided he had enough and barged in, nearly punching the door with pent up energy and frustration, then he nearly punched Charlie, but he got himself under control.

Charlie jumped, preparing for yelling at whoever walked in uninvited to his room, but quickly took a step back, realising who it was. He stood face to face with Eggsy flushed red with embarrassment and anger, while Charlie was pale as a statue and hiding a joint behind his back.

The blond bird - and it was fucking Clara Von Gluckfberg, a supermodel that was all over Charlie in one of his music videos - didn’t bat an eyelash, sliding the joint from her mouth with two fingers and breathing out smoke.

Charlie’s shoulders slumped and he scratched his hair with one hand, the other one at his side, joint forgotten.

“Shit, Gary. How much did you hear?” And seriously? That’s the first thing that came to his mind? Wanker.

“Enough.” Eggsy’s eyes roamed over the room. There’s a wardrobe open, Clara sitting comfortably on the sofa, with kiss bitten lips and a teeth marks all over her collarbones and throat. Charlie bites like a fucking shark. “So Imma just a maid for ya, huh? Always were.”

He didn’t why he didn’t just walked away, like he wanted to. Why he had to ask that question, when he could just leave. He still had hope? Hope for what? Charlie wouldn’t change for him and he made that fucking clear in the past.

Charlie opened his mouth as if to argue, but then he sighed. “Look at yourself.” He gestured to 

Eggsy, who was still staring at Charlie in the eyes. “You clothes, your… you know…  _ everything _ . Showbiz doesn’t want a pleb. He wants us.” He gestured to himself and Clara, who was staring at Eggsy, admiring him openly, licking her lips. Eggsy felt sick. “We had a pretty sweet deal, Gary. I got you out of the estates and... well… I wasn’t kidding myself, thinking you want me for my dashing personality.”

Eggsy’s eyes went wide. He had a brief stint in the Marines and did free running when he had the time, so he knew he was built as a fucking brick shithouse and he knew he could be intimidating when he wanted. Now he just wanted to cry. He furiously refused to do so, clenching and unclenching his teeth.

“I weren’t whorin’ myself out for three years wif a bunch of half-decent fucks, sloppy blowjobs and slobberin’ kisses for a flat screen tv and a Samsung fridge.  _ Jesus Christ. _ ” He breathed in and out, his face steel. “And you can shove your singing and acting skills up my ass, ‘cause you haven’t seen me in the action, yet, bruv. And the next time ya see me, and ya will, it’ll be there.” He pointed out to the palsma tv on a desk.

Then he walked out without looking back. He had a revenge plot forming in his mind. But now he got to pack up and get out of that fucking flat. That awful horrible place he lived alone for a better portion of three years.

God, he was a fucking moron.

_ A whore, _ for fuck’s sake. 

_ Three years _ .

 

***

 

Eggsy thought about taking his jacket off, but thought against it. He hadn’t got time to change after his work at the pub. He got a brief look at himself in a glass walls of the huge building and he actually didn’t look that bad. He took a deep breath and walked in before the nerves got the better of him.

Of course the lobby was bloody huge. Not that it was a surprise. Eggsy was just standing - quite literally, as the logo was on the floor - in a centre of the universe. Or, as others know it, Kingsman Entertainment building, also known as Excalibur. And no wonder, Eggsy thought, after it took him two minutes to spot a man behind a counter, which stated: Information.

“‘Ello.” He waved - actually waved, what the fuck - at the older man, he had a dark sweater, gray hair and a friendly smile.

Eggsy knew how pretty he cut a picture - grey polo shirt, navy snapback, washed jeans, old sneakers. To be honest, he has expected he’d be thrown out at the first touch of his foot at this holy ground. But he haven’t seen any security yet and that man has been very polite with his, “Good morning, sir. How can I help you?”, so Eggsy sucked it up and haven’t even tried to cover his accent - just enough to be comprehensible. He wasn’t afraid of who he was and where he came from and even Kingsman wouldn’t change that.

“Imma candidate.” The man scrunched his eyebrows and Eggsy quickly added. “For the Lancelot Audition?”

“Do you realise, sir, that the audition starts in five minutes?”

“Shit.” Eggsy cursed himself. Fucking idiot. He thought he got at least ten minutes to spare. He got his phone out and cursed again. “Sorry. Can ya tell me where is the audition room?”

“It’s sixth floor, sir. Better hurry up.”

“Thanks, mate.” Eggsy managed as he sprinted towards the lift. There was a lot of men in posh suits and women in sharp dresses looking like they just got off a meeting with the Queen. He squeezed past them and got a place in the corner of the lift.

Fuck, he couldn’t be late. It was his biggest opportunity, yet. He haven’t even expected to get in. He’s seen the ads on telly and online.  _ Kingsman Ent. recruiting for the Lancelot position! _ After the thing with Charlie, he was ten times more determined to prove his skills. The wanker’s face followed him everywhere. On every poster, album, talk show. People were banging on about him all the time. It felt like Charlie was still mocking him, with his fame, with his status.

So Eggsy thought why not. He sent a video showing off his skills, then actually was asked for an online interview with a bald man named Merlin, who was as intimidating as brilliant. His last words to Eggsy were,  _ Don’t waste this chance, lad _ . 

Eggsy wasn’t going to.

After that talk he actually googled “merlin kingsman” and fuck, if he knew the man was such a legend, he wouldn’t have stammered a word. He was Kingsman HR Manager and he was basically all the brain behind Kingsman for almost 30 years. And Eggsy called him  _ bruv _ .

The lift stopped on every floor until it reached sixth and Eggsy was out in a flash. He had to stop and look around. There were three hallways to three different parts of the floor. And don’t even get him started on the numbers of doors.

There was one person in his line of sight - a tall man in a dark pinstriped suit. 

Eggsy was reluctant to approach him. It wasn’t a pride thing or a posh thing. When you grow up at the estates you don’t assume certain things - you just know them.  _ You do everything you can. You keep your mouth shut. You aren’t a poof. Don’t hold your head too high or too low. Posh people hate people like us. _ Eggsy went out to the bigger world with those assumptions, some of them turned out to be good advice, most of them turned out to be complete bollocks.

Eggsy’s fingers sometimes itch to snatch hundred pound note from sharp dressed man’s wallet in a breast pocket, then put it back in just to prove he can. And that’s his only assumption about posh people these days. Some of them turn out to be pretty decent, some of them turn out like Charlie. There’s no universal rule to it, Eggsy’s learned.

The thing that kept Eggsy at a distance was that the man’s posture screamed  _ busy, don’t bother _ . But what the hell, Eggsy wasn’t the one for warnings anyway.

He cleared his throat to get the man’s attention. As he kept going he was becoming more aware of the difference in their heights and how the stranger towered over him by maybe a ten centimetres. He’s very lean, but as it turned out it is not in awkward lanky sort of way. There was muscle beneath that suit, Eggsy’s got good eye for that shit.

And how those legs are so long?

“Oi, bruv, d’ya know where-” Eggsy’s words got stuck in his throat as the man turned. And  _ shit fucking hell _ , how could Eggsy not recognise him? Harry bloody Hart. Galahad. The biggest star of Kingsman. Model, actor, director, musician - the whole package.

Eggsy felt a surge of dislike and guilt that left him a bit breathless. He hated Harry Hart for three years and now all the reasons for it felt wrong and ridiculous. 

The media and critics often compared Charlie to Hart.  _ Harry Hart born again, but with less charm and talent _ . Most of those kind of comments were in Harry Hart’s favour. Eggsy despised the man because of that. He haven’t watched a single film with the man since then, hasn’t let himself think of the ones he watched before with his mum or something. When Hart’s face popped out on the telly, he switched the channel.

To be honest he choose the audition at Kingsman Ent. was because Charlie hated it, hated Harry Hart.

It was hard to believe the same man was currently lifting an eyebrow at Eggsy. He saw the man’s lips move, but he hadn’t heard a thing.

“Sorry, wot was that?”

Eggsy felt like an idiot. The good thing was that Hart didn’t seem offended. He even looked amused, if the quirking corner of his lips was any indication.

When he did speak, Eggsy focused on his lips, which he quickly lifted to his eyes, a warm brown ones beneath thick rimmed glasses.

“I would like to help you, but I’m afraid you haven’t finished your question.” Harry Hart said with perfect queen accent that belonged in Downton Abbey, but felt plain  _ weird  _ directed at Eggsy. 

“Yeah, uh, the audition. Maybe ya know where the Lancelot audition is? Which door, I mean?”

There was a hint of smirk playing at the older man’s lips and Eggsy still couldn’t tell if he was laughing at him or  _ laughing at him _ . “Oh, yes, I do happen to know, where it is. If you just…”

He turned around at started walking and Eggsy stared after him dumbly, following the line of his legs from the shiny shoes upwards and wow, how long were his legs exactly. That’s a supermodel for ya. Just as he got to the man’s trimmed waist and broad shoulders, he turned back.

“Aren’t you coming?” He blinked at Eggsy a few times, bemused.

Eggsy felt heat rushing to his cheeks. Harry Hart showing him about, that was something he thought he’d never experience in his life. “Yeah, bruv. But you know you can just, like, point me in the right direction or sumfin’?”

“Nonsense. Come along.” He made a motion with his hand that got Eggsy ungluing his legs from the floor and following him like a obedient puppy. As Eggsy caught up with him, Harry Hart turned his eyes at him.. “What your name, young man?”

“Eggsy.” He winced. His nickname was used by basically everyone he knew, but he wanted to separate his personal and professional life, so in work he often introduced himself as Gary. Gary Unwin, actor.

Harry Hart didn’t hesitate, didn’t question what kind of name was Eggsy as almost everyone, when they heard it for the first time. “Harry.” He introduced himself like some usual john, took Eggsy’s outstretched hand in his own and shook it. 

Firm grip, calloused hands. From firearms, which surprised Eggsy. He heard that Harry -  _ Harry!  _ \- did most of his own stunts, but it didn’t register until now how experienced he must be. Most of the time this posh man in his posh suit looked more like a model on the cover of a magazine than an action hero.

“Eggsy.” Harry continued, his tone a tad more serious than before. “Why are you here?”

They stopped in front of a dark wooden door. Eggsy’s brows scrunched up. “Sorry?”

“There are 16 people in there. People carefully chosen by our HR staff. People who want this position as much or maybe more than you. People after acting school, people who worked in the industry for years. People who have far more experience than you do, maye more talent. But only one of you would get in. I’m going to repeat my question then: why are you here? What do you think you have that the others don’t?”

Eggsy thought of a several responses involving a few of more creative curses he learned in the estates that were probably too much for Harry’s undoubtedly posh delicate sensibilities, so he refrained from using them. When he was just getting started in the business he was very defensive, he even got that little bit of speech he practised in the mirror many times, that he actually hurled at Charlie’s face the first time they met in that fucking audition room. The speech about snobs and judging people like him from their ivory towers.

To be honest he got that Harry was passionate about his job. You don’t do this shit 30 years if you don’t love it. And he was super professional. Of course he wouldn’t want to work with the likes of Charlie, who go with the flow and the best motivation for them is money. That’s why all the anger flew into him and left him in a matter of a second.

“The question is,  _ Harry _ , what I don’t have that the others do.” He craned his neck and pointed at the door with his chin, smirk playing at his lips as Harry lifted his eyebrows in question. Eggsy leaned closer, one hand coming to rest on the golden door handle. 

“And what would that be?” Harry asked, quieter than before. There was no need for much noise, when they were so close.

“The silver spoon up my ass.” Eggsy full on grinned, as he opened the door and didn’t look back to see Harry’s reaction.

He got in a room with a bunch of completely different people - different color of skin, nationality, age, style, gender. None of them looked friendly, more like they would eat him alive, not let themselves be eaten. 

Obviously, Eggsy didn’t expect otherwise. They all wanted the Lancelot position. But as angry as Eggsy was back then at Charlie and sent his CV and audition tape as a joke, not expecting a response back, but after he got the call and was invited here, now he was just as determined as any of them. 

It’s one of the first times he actually feels good about himself and hopeful about his future.

It’d be pretty sweet if he got in, he will try his best, but whatever the outcome - he got there on time, he talked back to Harry fucking Hart, he’ll actually get to show his skills to professionals. That is all a dream he got since he was a kid. Whatever happens, he’ll keep trying.

 

 

 

He met some of the candidates. Rufus from Zurich (only later Eggsy heard someone mention it was in Switzerland and that made more sense, because Eggsy thought it was somewhere in or near Russia, but that wouldn’t explain the accent). Digby from London, his dad’s got the big law firm that Eggsy immediately forgot the name of. They were pricks to him and made snide comments about his clothes and accent, but he showed them two fingered salute with a grin and strode off.

“Nice one.” He heard someone snort and it turned out to be a girl, petite and very posh, but with a firm grip, when they shook hands and she called him  _ Eggy _ . She saw him cringe as it reminded him of how Charlie used to call him, when he was in a mood and she never did that again.

She was sharp, and not only in the way she dressed. Her eyes scanned Eggsy and he felt she was notting all of his weaknesses for later reference. Her name was Roxy and, competitor or not, by the brief conversation they had and dislike for prejudiced assholes, she was awesome. And badass.

Five minutes since Eggsy the door opened again. Merlin, Kingsman HR Manager stepped into the room with a quick, “Fall in.”

All of the candidates immediately formed two rows next to each other. Eggsy was in the first row, Roxy at his right hand and Merlin in front of him. The man was even more intimidating than over the phone. His Scottish brogue and harsh demeanor practically legendary.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Merlin. You are about to embark on what’s probably the most tiring and demanding job interview in the world. One of you, and only one of you, will become the next Lancelot.” Then he proceed to explain what the first task would look like. And that there would be 3 auditions in total. One improvised, one with a script. And the third one will take place tomorrow between only 3 chosen people and it will be a surprise.

First for an hour or so, they were doing some vocal and acting exercises with Merlin watchful eye right next to them. Once in a ten minute he would call a name and that person had to go home. Everytime Merlin shifted Eggsy had a feeling he would be the next, but somehow he managed to make it to final 10.

Next they went to a different hallway in the same floor, which was a backstage of the Kingsman theatre, the one big ass scene with dark red curtains and rows and rows of seats. The only time Eggsy remembered standing on a scene was one he played a shepherd boy in Nativity Play in primary. But yeah, no pressure. He was more of a cheap commercial/photoshoot kind of bloke, not the live audience real professional actor.

He got a bit nervous, but then Roxy told him she was afraid of heights and to conquer her fear she wanted to jump out of a plane with a parachute. She was nearly pissing herself and her uncle James thought it would be funny to push her out. She was mad at him for half a second, before she felt the best a human can feel - like she was flying. She was never afraid of heights ever since.

“The thing is everyone are afraid of something. You just have to suck it up and don’t let the fear beat you.” She said with a shrug.

God, that woman was badass.

“Ya tryna say ya gonna push me from the stage or wot?”

She swatted him in the shoulder and shook her head. “I was trying to help you, you dumbass. Now I’m not gonna stammer a little so you would have better chances.”

Eggsy put a palm on his heart with a gasp, “Milady would do that for her simple servant boy?”

“Oh fuck off.” She laughed, standing up as her name was called.

“Break your legs.” Eggsy called after her.

“Don’t break yours.” She smiled in return.

Roxy was good. She was a strong rival and both of them, as much as they liked each other, loved the competition more. So they did their best and the best would win. But in the meantime they weren’t sulking in a corner not talking to anyone like some of the others did.

Roxy was standing, face solemn and determined giving a pretty sweet and long as fuck speech. In that scenario she was some politician fighting for civil rights movement, Eggsy guessed.

When Eggsy’s name was called Roxy muttered ‘Gary, really?’ and Eggsy gave her two-fingered salute behind his back. He got that shit on lock. His scene was an interrogation scene. He pretended to be a man who stole his coworker’s car, drove fifteen donuts in his face and then drove off backwards through half of London, only to crash into police car in the end.

Eggsy could imagine it with striking accuracy. He remembered the thing with Rottie’s car back in the day. He’d like to drive that yellow fucking Subaru Impreza through half of London backwards, but as often in real life, he never got the chance. Instead he, Ryan and Jamal painted all over it one night and when Rottie saw his yellow car with big red dick painted on the hood the first thing he knew was to tell Dean. Eggsy got a black eye that he got to cover up with make up for weeks, but Dean never was sure it was him.

Eggsy got on the stage, his stomach in knots, he looked at Merlin and a few people sitting with him behind a desk, someone older on the audience hiding in the corner. But then Eggsy blinked and they were gone. Instead he was that man, who wanted to have fun for once in his life, who hated his work and his coworkers, but who was loyal to his friends and would never rat them out.

He ended the speech, a bit breathless and with a bow and “Thanks for havin’ me,” he got off the stage.

“Shit, you were good. Why didn’t you say you were that good?” Roxy demanded immediately and honestly, hearing that from Roxy was a big fucking compliment.

Another 5 people were rejected. Digby threw a fit and spit that his father’s gonna hear about this. Merlin told him that if anyone got a complain, they have to whisper it in his ear. Which Digby, the idiot he was, did. When Merlin bent his head and said something only the two of them could hear, Digby went white as a sheet and practically flew out of the door in a second.

“Imagine working with someone like that on a daily basis.” Roxy said as they watched the whole scene.

Merlin didn’t even change expression and went to talk with one of his assistants quietly. He was fucking terrifying.

“Yeah, but imagine finding something that would make him budge.” Eggsy grinned and Roxy did the same. Then their expression went sober, remembering that only of them would get the chance to see Merlin change his expression, not the two of them. Which was a shame. Eggsy wouldn’t mind sharing a title with Roxy. She could be Lance to his Lot. They would have so much fun.

He never got a friend that is another actor, simply because it was most often like this - this constant competition, who’s better than the other. But with Roxy it was easy. He wouldn’t mind keeping in touch with her after this whole thing.

Merlin turned around to the five candidates that’s left and as the door opened and they say people carrying dog cages. “Now, you’re gonna pick a puppy.”

Eggsy and Roxy exchanged looks.

What the shit would they do with puppies?

 

 

 

It was another test of course. They had a free hour to get  _ acquaintanced  _ with the dog they picked.

“A poodle, really?” Eggsy snorted, looking down at the black dog sitting on Roxy’s heels. They met for lunch in the Kingsman cafe on the second floor after half an hour of bonding time with their puppies.

“What? They’re gun dogs. Oldest working breed. Easy to train.” He forgot most of the time that Roxy was actually posh, but she sometimes couldn’t help to sound like a lady sometimes. She glanced briefly at the tiny lump in Eggsy’s lap, raising an eyebrow, “A pug?”

“Yep. Me an’ JB, we have a connection, ya see.  Ain’t we?” Eggsy cooed at the puppy, who started to lick his fingers.

“Oh Eggsy,” Roxy sighed, shaking her head. “They’re not ours to keep.”

Eggsy bristled, “Yeah, I know.”

“Just… don’t get too attached.”

“I won’t.” Eggsy promised fiercely. Then he looked down at the creature currently trying to eat his fingers. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure.

 

 

 

This time they didn’t see the other candidates performances. There wasn’t any audience except Merlin and some other blokes in suits that looked important. Then one of them, the oldest in the room, came up to Eggsy with a hand behind his back. He recognised him to be Chester King, the CEO of Kingsman, who with a bland expression handed him a replica of a gun.

“Shoot the dog,” he said gesturing to JB sitting on the floor, then turned around on his heel and came to sit beside Merlin.

What the flying fuck?

This was their fucking test? Got them a puppy to play with, then ask them to kill it? Construct a scene around it. The first thought Eggsy had was that they were fucking wankers. Playing on people’s emotions like this. The second thought was what is the test - he had to act, whatever his feelings about a subject were.

He swallowed thickly, then turned the barrel of a gun to JB’s head, his big eyes staring at him unblinkingly. He let himself imagine - not really the specifics of the situation, but his emotions. That this wasn’t a strange dog, that he known JB for years, since he was a puppy. He picked him out of the streets. He loved that snorting mass of fat and his dopey pug smiles and his lazy attitude. 

He also had to obey his superior’s orders.  _ Shoot the dog _ .

He felt conflicted. He felt betrayed. He killed men before. Women, too. Strangers, acquaintances. JB was his only friend, pure in the mud of a life that Eggsy had lived - as a spy, mercenary, whatever. The only thing keeping his humanity in check.

In the end he couldn’t do it. He’d rather die himself than sacrifice JB. Nothing was worth that sacrifice. Nothing would ever be. Fuck the men who made him even consider it. Fuck them for giving him the gun. Fuck all of them.

Eggsy gripped the gun tight and pointed it toward the old man, Chester King. The look of genuine surprise crossed his features, before smirk settles on his face, superiority, eyebrows high.  _ What are you going to do, boy? Shoot me? _ \- his expression read.

Eggsy’s jaw was beginning to hurt. He was gritting his teeth so hard. He hated his decision and he knew he would regret it, but as much as he was a killer, he wasn’t one for pointless murder. He held the gun toward King with the barrel down. He laughed, an awful sound, mocking.

Then he pulled the trigger.

“Thank you, lad.” Merlin said. “I’m going to ask you to do another scene. Can you do that or you need a quick break?”

Eggsy shook his head, even is his emotions were all over the place. He scooped up the pug and started to pet him, listening to Merlin’s explanations and trying to call himself down a bit.

“In the next scene you wake up slowly, to realise you were kidnapped and tied to underground train tracks. You hear a train coming from afar. There is a man there, standing above you, asking you questions about organisation that you’re in. He’s holding a knife that can set you free if you give him the answers.”

“What’s the catch, then?”

Merlin smirked. “Clever lad. You will share this scene with one of our professional performers.”

“Tha’s not bad.”

Merlin’s smirk broadened. “We’ll see. Ready?”

Eggsy nodded, giving JB a sweet kiss on behind the ear before a man in sweatpants took him away. He lied on the ground, his eyes closed, looking for all the world like he was sleeping and tied. “Ready.” He murmured, giving Merlin a nod without opening his eyes.

He slowly was rousing from the sleep. They got him with Chloroform or Rohypnol or some shit and his head fucking hurts, he’s dizzy and sick. He smacks his lips, mouth dry and as if trying to get rid of the rank taste.

He’s slurring his words, head lolling to the side, when he says to the black figure aproaching, “Who the fuck’re you? Where am I?” Eggsy knows him instantly. The black coat over a suit, the leather gloves holding a knife, those slick hair and thick rimmed glasses. 

He never breaks his character or he hopes he doesn’t, but yeah, he gets what Merlin said could throw him off. And he guessed right it would Harry fucking Hart standing above Eggsy playing a super villain, who captured Eggsy. Eggsy’s hot under to collar of his shirt, swallowing heavily and it’s got less to do with a role and more with the perfectly groomed man circling him until he rested his feet in the V of Eggsy’s splayed thighs, shiny shoes touching Eggsy’s ankles, making him even more nervous.

“Hello, Eggsy. Do you see this knife? This knife can save your life.”

Eggsy looks around,  _ seeing  _ the lights of the train approaching. “Fuck!” He cries out, squirming, trying to get out of his ties. He doesn’t want to die. He can’t die. Not now. Not now.

“My employers got two questions for you, Eggsy.” Harry looks at him, chill as a bloody rain, playing with the knife, a little sinister smirk that shouldn’t do things to Eggsy playing on his lips. “What the fuck is Kingsman? And what they want from me?”

“I don’t know what the fuck that is. Shit!” He’s writhing, feeling the ropes dig into his his wrists and ankles.

“Oh, Eggsy, I just killed that girl Roxy for giving me the same bullshit answer.”

“Fuck!” Eggsy felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Just cut the fucking ropes, please!”

“Is Kingsman really worth dying for, then?”

It’s too late now. There no chance in hell he’ll be getting out of this alive, unless one of them has superpowers and it’s not that kind of movie. He’s gone now. At least he can go out with a bang.

He screams  _ Fuck you! _ on the top of his lungs, closing his eyes.

There’s silence after that, maddening, ringing in his ears. He’s got that terrible feeling he fucked something up, but on the front of his mind are still the the emotion of that character that just died, that Eggsy that wasn’t supposed to die, that was in the wrong place in the wrong time.

He feels a shadow over his eyes and opens them in alarm, only to see Harry Hart again standing above him. But now he’s just Harry. It’s… well, it was bloody amazing what this man could in just a few seconds. Could make himself go steel in over a second and Eggsy still remembered that bland voice and expressionless face sending him to his death without a blink of an eye.

Now he didn’t wear much expresion either, his movements were controlled like before but it wasn’t threatening. He was a calming presence, encouraging even with that bit of a smile playing at his lips and that soft browns of his eyes that were reserved only for Eggsy. 

He couldn’t tell if it was another character Harry played or it was just him.

“Bloody well done.” There’s a little thrill that goes through Eggsy at the words, at the blanant compliment. Harry looks strict and Eggsy didn’t doubt his respect would be much to gain. He never thought that he would give praise so freely. But again, there was a gap between them, high as an Eiffel Tower and he didn’t know anything about the man.

He grips the hand offered to him that hoists him up. When the firm grip is gone, Eggsy regrets it and scold himself roundly for it.

He could see Harry opening his mouth, when Merlin clears his throat to get their attention. Whatever question Harry was going to ask, it never left his lips.

“Thank you for your help, Galahad.” His words were polite, but he sent Harry a meaningful look and Harry rolled his eyes in return. Eggsy swore they were having a mental conversation, if he ever saw one. “Thank you for you time, Mr. Unwin. We should inform you of our decision in the next twenty four hours. Dismissed.”

 

 

 

He’s in a sushi bar, when his cell rang. He left it upstairs - this was the place he lived in after Charlie- at the second floor of a sushi bar, where he worked on weekends. His mum and Daisy came to visit. They hate the smell of fish as much as he does, hate the taste of it, but they love him more, so he asks Yamato to make them some tea to the biscuits they brought with them.

His cell rings, and rings, and rings, until it stops. He didn’t hear any of it, too caught up in catching up with the most precious girls in his life and he didn’t even check the cell until the late evening.

He sees some texts from his mates, one from Roxy, but the most important thing is that one missed call with the name ‘Merlin’ on it. He makes a call right with his heart doing somersaults. He was pacing around the small flat to burn some nerves, waiting for Merlin to pick up the phone.

He’s greeted with an angry Scottish accent, “Where the hell have you been, lad?”

“S-sorry.” Eggsy mumbled. “Had an afternoon shift.”

“Well, that won’t be a problem anymore.” Merlin grumbled and Eggsy hadn’t dared to hope. “From this moment onwards you will have a paid internship in Kingsman Ent. I’ll give you the details on monday, 9 am, be on time.”

There was a pause where Eggsy actually thought he heard wrong. 

“Lad. Eggsy? Did I break you? Oh well, Roxy had much the same reaction.I’ll leave you to it, then… Unless you don’t agree?”

Eggsy could hear smile in Merlin’s voice, but he felt it like a slap to wake him up. He clutched the phone and said, “I’ll be there. 9 am, precisely. I will, I promise.”

“Alright, then. Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight, thanks, Merlin.”

“Don’t thank me, yet. It’s going to be an awful training.”

Eggsy may - or may not have - cried a bit, after Merlin hung up. He was on a cloud nine, he couldn’t sleep most of the night, and he was so distracted in the sushi bar that old man Yamato said as politely as he could to go home early.

 

 

 

He - well, he and Roxy were presented with bright pink overalls. They looked at themselves, then at those monstrosities in complete shock and horror.

“From now on it’s going to be your uniform. You will cherish it and wear it with pride.”

“Are you taking the fucking piss, guv?” Eggsy couldn’t help but blurt out. He had certain fondness of bright clothing, but it was too much even for him. Roxy actually looked broken, she couldn’t even imagine something like that existed and now she had to wear it.

“Afraid not. This is an essential part of our new experimental training program.” Merlin said with a straight face. “Weren’t you surprised why the two of you and not only the one?”

They shared a glance, nodding slightly.

“See,” Merlin continued. “There is only a one place for a position of Lancelot, as you know. But after many discussions we still were in a conflict between you two, we decided to change the rules a bit. So we created this new section on internship. The  _ Love Me Section _ .”

Eggsy internally cringed at the name. It was even written on those awful overalls. Ugh.

“You’ll stay here for a year, doing everything you can to help those who may require your help, and after you help them - you can get one sticker if your help was good enough. Sometimes you will be asked to help and you won’t get anything at all. It’s all a learning experience. You probably want to ask me how it’s supposed to make you better actors? First of all it’s supposed to make you see things through a Kingsman’s eyes. See how we work, who we work with and what is required to be a Kingsman. We had nothing put in front of us on a silver platter, we had to work for it, each and every one of us and you will have too. To show you that you need certain characteristics to survive in this business. Am I making myself clear this far?”

“Yeah.” They both said.

“Excellent. This in no way means that you won’t work in performing fields. There’s a great need of extras around here. You can take part in auditions of any kind, while you’re here. We’re not here to stop your personal growth. The only thing that we need from you is dedication. I and most importantly - Chester King need to see, through your profiles and achievements that you’re worth it. And it is no easy task. You both start at a disadvantage.”

They shared a puzzled look.

“Have you never considered why Kingsmen are mostly white upper class men? Chester is very particular about that. He comes to the conclusion that women or people who weren’t born into wealth have no place here. You need to work two times harder than any of our previous trainees. It is not fair - but neither is life, and I can’t do much about it. The only thing I can say is that I have the utmost faith in you both, along with some… high-ranked people who also noticed your potential and weren’t afraid to fight for it. Thank them by doing your best. Believe me, they will see it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Your comment might get me pumped for another chapter, if you'll really like it, though I don't think it's very good, so meh
> 
> Oh, and the pink jumpsuits look like [THIS](https://ksr-ugc.imgix.net/assets/012/398/823/187488c4c9c51b2463e1e886b3967fa6_original.jpg?crop=faces&w=1552&h=873&fit=crop&v=1463759125&auto=format&q=92&s=e1d1419352fcceafc4784eb1099aa320)


End file.
